


A Trip to the Boneyard

by EvenSpeedWeedisAfraid



Series: Hell's Yarns [9]
Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series), Hellsing, The Boys (Comics)
Genre: Banter, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Eye Gouging, Flashbacks, Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Swearing, Warnings May Change, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 11:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28759713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvenSpeedWeedisAfraid/pseuds/EvenSpeedWeedisAfraid
Summary: At Vox and Valentino's prodding, Alastor recounts an encounter from a few months ago.Between two red-clad madmen, a tale of blood-stained brawling in a desolate graveyard ensues.
Series: Hell's Yarns [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058714
Kudos: 3





	1. Nocturnal Rapports

Walking through the streets of Pentagram City was always a bit of a gamble when you were one of Alastor's reputation. Of course, the everyday Sinners steer _very_ clear of him, but the more ambitious fools that inhabit Hell don't have that sort of self-preservation instinct. Today's walk was going rather well, until the Radio Demon started to hear and _feel_ the dull hum of a screen a few paces behind. It didn't take a rocket scientist to know who _that_ belonged to...

Stopping in his tracks, Alastor didn't even turn around before speaking up. "Vox, my modern nuisance! To what do I owe this round of bothering?"  
The sound of audience laughter rang out, joined by a raspy chuckle - oh, so Valentino had come along too? Wonderful.  
After the laughs died down, the television Overlord composed himself and spoke. "Well, you see... me and Val, we wanted to get a bit of an _inside scoop_ about a rather _special_ broadcast you did some time back." As Vox spoke, the moth pimp that accompanied him pulled out a jewel-encrusted cigarette case, taking out one of the sticks and placing it between his lips before bringing a lighter up to it.

"You should think about being more specific, technicolor tragedy that you are. What, pray tell, could this _special broadcast_ you speak of contain?" The deer intoned, finally turning around to face the two Overlords. In that moment, he could see that Valentino had more scars around his face than he last remembered.  
"Ya don't gotta play coy, baby... bein' humble ain't _becomin'_ of ya," the pimp drawled out before blowing a ring of pink smoke into the air.  
"Hell, I think he genuinely doesn't remember what we're talking about! Let's see if this jogs his memory..." Vox raised a hand, before snapping his fingers - in a flash, several nearby TV sets came to flickering life, all to display one combined image:  
An imposing, black-furred shaggy dog sporting a mouth filled with razor-sharp fangs. Furthermore, it was decked out in red, with a wide-brimmed hat, long flowing coat, and orange-tinted glasses sitting before its eyes.

Seeing the display, Alastor's ever-present grin twitched a bit in... annoyance? Anger? Something like it, for sure.  
"Think dat jogged him good, babe," Valentino chuckled, patting Vox on the back for the move.

\---

He did remember.  
A few months ago, Alastor was engaging in one of his standard broadcasts, sat merrily in the station's booth as he hummed along to Ray Noble and Al Bowlly's rendition of 'Midnight, The Stars and You' - he quite enjoyed this little ditty, truth be told! It was relaxing, almost fitting for a bubble bath's background music.

>   
>  _Midnight with the stars and you_  
>  _Midnight and a rendez-vous_  
> 

His shadow slithered out to dance, not caring that it would be better to create a dance partner for itself - it was just really feeling the vibe.

>   
>  _Your eyes held a message tender_  
>  _Saying "I surrender all my love to you"_  
> 

Deciding to be cute for a moment, Alastor stood up from his seat and joined his shadow in dancing, holding it in an almost tender embrace - moving to and fro in the booth.

>   
>  _Midnight brought us sweet romance_  
>  _I know all my whole life through_  
> 

Leaning forwards as his shadow bent backwards, the Radio Demon chuckled to himself. Really, this was perfect - nothing was going to derail this, nothing _could!_

>   
>  _I'll be remembering you_  
>  _Whatever else I do_
> 
> _Midnight with the stars and you_  
> 

Just as the vocals came to an end, his shadow got cheeky and nuzzled in on him, before slinking back below him. Just as he was going to sit down, the radio waves _shifted_ , almost out of his control as the sweet big band was replaced with powerful synths and organ bells.  
No matter what he tried, he couldn't turn off this frequency that had managed to jam his own. Then, as everything ceased for a second or two, a new set of vocals came through - the unmistakable cords of one Ozzy Osbourne.

>   
>  _Mr. Crowley, what went on in your head?_  
>  _Oh, Mr. Crowley, did you talk to the dead?_  
> 

This couldn't be just a pure coincidence, it _had_ to be a targeted message for him and him alone - one that all his listeners would be privy to, sure, but the point remains. Just... _who_ would do this?

>   
>  _Your life style to me, seemed so tragic_  
>  _With the thrill of it all_  
> 

As the guitars kept wailing, much to the Overlord's displeasure, he could swear he heard the barking of dogs and the chirping of bats right outside his tower's window. Was this part of the song, or was it added to mess with his head?

>   
>  _You fooled all the people with magic_  
>  _Yeah, you waited on Satan's call_  
> 

Maybe this was some sort of power play by a hungry young upstart - he'd taken down his fair share of those during his time in Hell, but something about this felt _different_ , as if this person _knew_ his thought patterns more than most.

>   
>  _Mr. Charming, did you think you were pure?_  
>  _Mr. Alarming, in nocturnal rapport_  
> 

A sobering, unsettling thought occurred then... perhaps this was this demon's idea of courtship? Why else would they pick a song that qualified its subject as both charming and alarming?

>   
>  _Uncovering things that were sacred_  
>  _Manifest on this Earth_  
>  _Conceived in the eye of a secret_  
>  _And they scattered the afterbirth!_  
> 

The guitar solo kicked in after this declaration, and a voice came through over the instruments. "Alastor! Baskerville here. If you want to know _how_ I jacked in, then you're out of luck. However, if you want to give in to what we _both_ want, and put an end to this veneer of civility that covers our conflict, _come to the Boneyard!_ "  
Of course, it had to be that irritating, vampiric hound. Arrogant, snarky, and with the endless _gall_ to gun for another man's position while robed in said man's own color palette - he'd be impressed if he didn't want to tear the demon's heart out and feast upon it while Baskerville's eyes rolled up in his head.  
Bringing him out of his reverie, the lyrics came back.

>   
>  _Mr. Crowley, won't you ride my white horse?_  
>  _Mr. Crowley, it's symbolic, of course_  
>  _Approaching a time that is classic_  
>  _I hear that maiden's call_  
>  _Approaching a time that is drastic_  
>  _Standing with their backs to the wall!_  
> 

Oh, they certainly _were_ approaching a time that is drastic. "Consider the invitation accepted, then," he muttered, before leaving his booth and exiting the tower.  
Blood will be spilled, oh yes it will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, the portrayal of Alucard in this fic is mostly based on his Hellsing Abridged incarnation. It'll be a bit more apparent in the second chapter.
> 
> Stay tuned...


	2. Hounds of War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor faces off against Baskerville.  
> Will the latter prove to be a worthy challenger, or is the No-Life King simply King Nothing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The violence gets pretty gory in this one, fair warning.

"So, y'sure the cunt's gonna show up?"  
In a deserted graveyard on the outskirts of Pentagram City, two dogs waited. One, black-furred and shaggy, stood atop a hearse hooked up to signal jammers and pirate radio equipment aplenty. The other, an English Bulldog by all meanings of the phrase, leaned against the side, dressed in a black trenchcoat and standard blue-collar clothing underneath, while twirling a crowbar between his fingers.  
"Obviously he will," replied the one atop the hearse, adjusting his hat before looking down towards his compatriot. "If there's anything to know about powerful men, it's that they _hate_ being interrupted. Shit, I know _I_ sure do, and he's more like me than he'd like to admit, so..." He shrugged, before chuckling darkly.

"Right, I get it, you're horny for him an' ya wanna plow his arse, don't gotta keep hearin' 'bout it," the cockney of the two sighed, looking away from the red-clad dog to see... well, somebody _else_ clad in red approaching in the distance. "An' here's your sweetheart, big lad."  
As Alastor crept ever closer, the static of the airwaves radiating off of him, Baskerville was grinning ear to ear, arms out wide in joy. "You came! Wonderful! So, finally ready to get _primal_ with me, Al?"  
"I rather doubt that you'd push me to such extremes, good sir. After all, how many have I eliminated before you came?" A few steps forward, while the dog atop the hearse hopped down from there.  
"Oh, sweet Cajun spice, I haven't cum _yet._ And I already dug a hole for you, too!" Baskerville breathed out, having a laugh at Alastor's less than pleased noises.

"If you can cease your attempts at... _flattery_ , I believe now would be the time for this battle you so desire."  
"Ah, yeah, you're right! Terror, if you would?" At Baskerville's prodding, the bulldog went to the hearse to begin the music. After a few seconds of silence, a bell tolling sounded out, then another before the guitars and drums kicked in.

Baskerville was the first on the attack, pulling out two frankly immense pistols before opening fire on Alastor - yet every bullet, despite one pistol being chambered in big game hunting .454 Casull rounds and the other in explosive 13mm rounds, simply made Alastor flinch. Almost to instil some further panic and fear in his opponent, the Radio Demon proceeded to use some of his tendrils to _pluck_ the bullets out of his body, letting them fall to the ground as his wounds regenerated.  
"What the shite," muttered Terror as he carefully walked away from the intensifying combat while Alastor calmly dismissed his microphone cane - at least, for now.

As Alastor finally reached Baskerville to land his first punch, the music came to a tweedly-tweedly movement - the drums accompanying it matching with each exchange of punches from the two demons. Eventually, the hound got overzealous and tried to hit _with_ his pistols, causing the deer to grab hold of him before tossing him onto the hearse's windshield, cracking it and embedding some shards in the dog's back.  
Just as James Hetfield's vocals came in, too.

>   
>  _Make his fight on the hill in the early day_  
>  _Constant chill deep inside!_  
> 

Rolling off the hood, Baskerville discarded his explosive ammo pistol to focus on the ol' reliable Casull rounds, firing a shot which _just_ missed the other by a hair. Falling to one knee, the dog then baited the deer in before tossing dirt into his eyes, distracting him enough to land a few good hits. Of course, Alastor met this aggression with some of his own, landing solid right hands on Baskerville until they forced the latter to tumble backwards into the very hole he dug for his adversary.  
Playing dead in the ditch paid off, as Alastor turned his attention towards Terror, who had just shouted at him.  
"Oi, fat cunt! We're just gettin' fuckin' started!"

>   
>  _Shouting gun, on they run through the endless grey_  
>  _On they fight, for they're right, yes, but who's to say?_  
> 

Behind the bulldog stood a small warehouse, a faint glow emanating from within but obscured by planks of wood. Said planks were pushed down, revealing several robed demons ready for combat. Or more accurately, ready for death.  
Alastor approached, his grin widening ever so slightly. "Let's not dally, then!"  
In rapid succession, the deer killed the weak fools, even knocking the heads of some clean off their shoulders! Redirecting his attention to Terror, the latter swung for the Radio Demon with his crowbar, but after a few tries it was easily caught by the man in red.

Pulling it free from the bulldog's grasp, he casually hit him in the midsection, before realising that such a pitiful weapon wouldn't do much. Discarding the steel, he re-summoned his microphone cane and proceeded to swing it across Terror's back a few times.  
However, Baskerville had crawled out of the hole by this point, and dashed towards his opponent with a tombstone in hand, breaking it into pieces against the back of Alastor's head as the latter readied another twack upon Terror.

>   
>  _For a hill, men would kill, why? They do not know_  
>  _Stiffened wounds test their pride!_  
> 

Dazed as he fell to the ground, Alastor slowly reached a hand to the back of his head, finding something hot pouring out slowly but surely - bringing it to his face, he realised he was bleeding from the back of his head.  
Taking advantage, Baskerville leapt onto the deer, dealing heavy blows with blood-stained gloved hands while some of his _own_ blood dripped down onto Alastor's face. Before long, the dog had pulled his adversary to his feet, leaned him up against one of the remaining planks before taking a running start and ramming into Alastor with a howl, blowing the wood apart with the impact.

Pulling himself up so that he was sitting, breathing heavily, Baskerville started shouting at his rival. "You haven't got what it _takes anymore,_ Nawlins boy!"  
Sitting back up in one unsettlingly fluid motion, Alastor simply chuckled as his shadow slinked out next to him, just so it could flip the hound a middle finger before retreating back into the deer. "Come, then. Let me prove you how wrong you are."  
Rushing to his feet, Baskerville snatched the Radio Demon's microphone cane, stepped behind him and swung it into his back as hard as he possibly could, over and over until it was _Alastor's_ turn to fall into the hole.

>   
>  _Men of five still alive through the raging glow_  
>  _Gone insane from the pain that they surely know!_  
> 

As the dog looked into the hole, he smirked, kicking some dirt onto Alastor's seemingly unconscious body. "Ashes to ashes, chucklefuck. Ashes to ashes."  
Stepping towards a nearby dirt mover filled with tons of earth, Baskerville laughed in disbelief at how easy it all was. He was going to beat an Overlord and he barely even had to try!  
Yet, he could swear he felt something behind him.

>   
>  _For whom the bell tolls!_  
>  _Time marches on!_  
>  _For whom the bell tolls!_  
> 

Slowly turning around, he saw Alastor standing there, glaring daggers down at him before a hand lunged for his throat. "Dogs aren't the only ones who can play dead, you know..."  
Proceeding to punch at the other's face repeatedly, Alastor ended up breaking the glasses that rested upon the hound's face, before the dog slipped out of his grasp and rushed away, climbing a ladder to the roofing of the warehouse as a brief instrumental break occurred in the song.  
Of course, Alastor wasn't far behind, teleporting to the roof while dusting himself off. "You weren't trying to escape now, right?" With a raise of his hand, pillars of blackness shot up behind the terrified dog, making him trip and fall on his ass.

He was quickly back on his feet however, charging forwards to bite into Alastor's shoulder in an attempt to tear a chunk out. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't pull away and the deer _tore_ him off, separating several of the vampiric one's teeth from his gums - causing more bleeding.  
Not quite done, another tendril of black surged from around him, snatching him and lifting him several dozen feet in the air.

>   
>  _Take a look to the sky just before you die_  
>  _It's the last time you will!_  
> 

As Baskerville was held up high, Terror joined the others on the roofing, but was met with a trip face first to the metal via Alastor sticking his foot out slightly. Undeterred, the Brit got back up to try and exchange blows - a big mistake.

>   
>  _Blackened roar, massive roar fills the crumbling sky_  
>  _Shattered goal fill his soul with a ruthless cry!_  
> 

One clumsy swing was all that Alastor needed to turn the tides - grabbing the arm and holding it tightly with one hand, the deer stuck out one clawed finger before _jamming it_ into Terror's left eye, then proceeding to _slowly_ pull it out, stalk and all, directly out of his skull.  
Naturally, his agonised screams filled the night air, but it wasn't over yet. Pulling on the arm, Alastor then launched the poor bastard off the side, careening to solid ground.

>   
>  _Stranger now are his eyes to this mystery_  
>  _Hears the silence so loud!_  
> 

Looking down to see what the results were, Alastor was pleased to witness that Terror's right leg had snapped right in half, muscles torn right through - no longer could he even _move_ his leg.  
"FUCKIN', FUCKER FUCKCUNT!!! _  
**FUUUUUUUUCK!!**  
_ " The bulldog whined out, bleeding severely from his new handicaps.  
With him no longer able to fight, the deer could focus back on the other dog - throwing him down all those many feet down onto one of the planks of wood from earlier.

>   
>  _Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be_  
>  _Now they see what will be, blinded eyes to see!_  
> 

Teleporting to ground level, Alastor grabbed onto Baskerville, pulling on a large shard of wood that was now stuck in his back before letting him go in front of the hole.  
"'m... 'm sorry..." The hound mumbled, so utterly defeated that he couldn't even muster his usual snark and bravado - it also didn't help him that he was down several teeth and coughing up blood.  
"What, do you believe I'll bury you?" Pulling the dog up to his feet, Alastor smiled despite the blood in his face. "It's been many a moon since somebody made me break a sweat!" Giving Baskerville pats on the back as the dog demon tried to hold on by grabbing Alastor's bowtie, the deer laughed. "No no, I won't do _that!_ "

Turning around and leaving Baskerville standing on wobbly legs, Alastor stopped in his tracks. "But, I _am_ starving." Quickly turning back to face him, the Radio Demon's arm shot forwards before piercing through the front of the dog's chest, then tearing out his heart, leaving him to fall to his knees.  
"Did you know that after the heart stops beating, the brain can still function for about seven minutes? I say that, because I _want_ you to see this."  
Opening his mouth, Alastor took a hearty bite of Baskerville's heart, copious blood spurting every which way as the dog slowly faded away.

Once the heart was devoured, the dog still had just enough strength to shakily raise his nearby pistol - only for Alastor to snatch it for himself.  
"It's quite a bit of overcompensation, isn't it? But, I suppose a firearm is a firearm!" Cocking the hammer back, he pressed the steel to Baskerville's forehead. "Goodbye, Vlad. It's been fun!"  
The hound smirked ever so fairly, before muttering one simple word. "Finally..."  
Pulling the trigger, Alastor blew the No-Life King's brains out, sending him flying back into the hole he himself had dug, landing on his neck with a sickening crack.

>   
>  _For whom the bell tolls!_  
>  _Time marches on!_  
>  _For whom the bell tolls!_  
> 

\---

"For you two, the day I slayed dear Baskerville must have been the most fantastical of moments... but for me, it was Tuesday!"  
"So... you ate his heart, right? Then... I guess you have his soul?" Vox said, tilting his screen to one side.  
"That information isn't something I'm inclined to impart upon you, Vox. But if I can ask for you to impart information upon _me_ , could you tell me if you know what happened to his compatriot, Terror?"  
"Leg's fucked, but he's doin' aight. Managed ta' drive outta the boneyard wit' just his one eye," Valentino filled in for his partner there.

With a few more pleasantries, the overlords parted ways. Against the walls of the buildings he passed by, Alastor's shadow could be seen dancing with another shape... a rather canine one, as it were.  
Seems it had found a partner after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:  
> -You thought I was done with my Metallica shit after Bogus Journey, huh? Nah, there's no such thing as me being done there.  
> -The fight was _heavily_ inspired by the recap of the Boneyard Match shown in the final episode of Undertaker: The Last Ride. Of course, I made the fight several degrees more brutal here, but hey.  
> -Making Billy Butcher suffer is fun!
> 
> More yarns coming quite soon!


End file.
